


Worth the Risk

by Sayl



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 04:25:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15016616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sayl/pseuds/Sayl
Summary: A horde of Risen besets the Shepherds, but just when they think the coast is clear, one climbs back to its feet and takes a deadly swing at Lissa.





	Worth the Risk

**Author's Note:**

> I'm behind on my fic I'm sorry so have this feelsy drabble I did on tumblr instead.

  It never seemed to end, the onslaught of Risen…and a new breed of them at that. The Shepherds were growing overwhelmed as the numbers just kept coming. Wave after wave of walking decay and rot swarmed in, weapons drawn and face empty. Hollow cries ring out, mindless and eerie as they charge and fall to their blades. 

     She’s gotten much stronger over the years, though many don’t see it right away at first glance. But he knows, perhaps better than anyone. With each battle, he stays by her side, but less and less she needs his protection. Being her defender has slowly morphed into being her partner on the battlefield. He watched her back, and she watched his…Even if he did still make an effort to take the brunt of the attacks. 

     The onslaught had been so massive the Shepherds had become spread out. Aside from Lissa, the closest person he sees is Libra, and he’s a good ten second sprint away…Way too far in the midst of this bloodbath. But tired as he is, injured as he is. He can’t give up. If he’s wearing down, she must be, too. And if he falters, that puts her at risk.

    That  _cannot_  happen. He won’t let it.

     And for minutes more, he fights on, until the last Risen in their vicinity falls at his feet. He’s panting slightly, shoulders heaving as his swords weight heavy in his hand. A quick glance around shows that the others are still a long way off, but he can see more of them now that there isn’t a throng of undead blocking his view. They’re still fighting, but it’s just a few stragglers left. Nothing they can’t handle. He lets out a heavy exhale, looking over at Lissa. She looks exhausted too, but most of the blood on her dress is not her own. She doesn’t appear majorly injured.  _Good._

     Lon’qu moves to sheathe his blades, but as he does, he flinches when he bends his arm inward. A glance at his arm reveals a rather impressive gash on his inner bicep, one that he hadn’t noticed during the adrenaline rush of the fight. It’s not fatal, but if untreated it could affect the muscle. And Lissa knows that once she sees it, vocally expressing her concern as she drops her axe to reach for her staff. 

     He doesn’t protest, seeing as there are no Risen approaching them or nearby aside from the corpses littering the ground. But just as she’s started to heal him, a muffled gurgling sound catches their attention. They can’t quite determine where it came from, but Lon’qu is immediately on alert. He glances about as she voices her question,  _Are they dead?_  

    Movement in his periphery catches his attention and draws it back toward where she stands beside him, just as she shouts the warning. One of the larger risen only a few feet away has suddenly risen to its feet with a guttural shriek, axe in hand and poised to strike at her.

     Her weapon is on the ground and the staff won’t stop the blade. He only has time to do one thing: Draw his blade, or move her. And he doesn’t hesitate. 

      Lon’qu’s arms move outward, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her towards him into a spin that pulls her out of harm’s way…and puts him in it. He positions himself in such a way that the edge of the axe comes down on the shoulderplate of his swordmaster’s uniform: The injured arm, unfortunately. It prevents the weapon from slicing his skin or removing the limb, but the blunt force wracks him with pain. He feels a  _crack_  just as his vision goes out of focus and his head fills with a heavy heat… 

      There’s a blur of blue that rushes past, but he doesn’t quite register it. He didn’t even hear his own cry of pain that left him. Disoriented, he starts to topple over, and her hand presses against his chest, the other wrapping around his torso however it can. She’s the only thing keeping him upright, and though he hasn’t lost consciousness, he can’t quite make out that she’s shouting his name, asking if he’s alright…

 

\-----------------

 

 The dust settled soon after, but it’s a blur to him. Eventually, he finds himself in the medical tent, sitting on the table as his long legs hang off the side, feet easily resting flat on the ground. He’s coherent now, but his left arm is throbbing in a way he’s never quite felt. Even in a splint, it feels like any minor movement will cause the pain to erupt again. He’s suffered all manner of bruising and cuts and contusions. He’s had his nose broken, his fingers broken, but never his whole arm. And it’s not even the forearm. He’s lost his privilege to use the whole limb from the shoulder down until it heals, or so Lissa tells him as she finishes wrapping the wound. 

    She’s visibly shaken still, even though her hands are steady. She didn’t quite scold him, but the worry in her tone wasn’t hard to miss as she explained what happened. The axe had come down on his pauldron too hard and because it was wrapped around her, it cracked the bone. It wasn’t a compound fracture, so it would heal a bit faster, but even with a staff it would be weeks before he could use it again and even longer before he could fight. It’s a hard pill to swallow, knowing that he’s going to be useless for the next month. Even worse, he’d nearly lost consciousness as well from the impact and his fatigue. Sure, he’d stopped the axe from hitting her, but he hadn’t cut down the enemy. Once he fell, who would have protected her?

    If Chrom hadn’t rushed in, he…Frankly he can’t bear to think of what may have happened. He’s silent, too ashamed to respond to her. This wasn’t like the time he’d taken that arrow for her all those years ago. Injured, yes, but he could still move, fight, keep her safe. This time…It was not the same story. She finishes securing the bandages and the splint, and though the sudden tightening hurts, he doesn’t flinch. He’s far too distracted. There’s silence between them for a few moments, she’s looking at him but he can’t seem to look back. Her brow is wrinkled with concern.

    _ **“**  I…am sorry  **…”**_ he finally manages to say, gaze going downcast. **“** _I grew overconfident, I…must not have been as thorough in dispatching the enemy in the chaos as I should have been…There is no excuse for it. My mistake put your life in jeopardy_ **…”**

 She doesn’t seem so sold on the story that he’s failed her. She shakes her head, still seemingly distraught to a point, but she manages a sad smile amidst it.  _He saved her,_ she said. And though he doesn’t fully see it, part of him knows she’s right. He’d made a split second decision, putting her safety before his…And while he knew that was why she was so concerned (and arguably, maybe a bit upset), he doesn’t regret what he did. In a perfect world, he wouldn’t have missed that Risen, and it never would have caught them by surprise. 

    But even if he’d lost the arm, it was a far better fate than losing her. Though he’ll always scold himself for not preventing it, he’ll never regret that choice. 

    His mood is still low, but some of the self loathing seems to flake away. Maybe it’s because of the way she cups his jaw in her hands. Her thumb brushes over his cheek and his eyes close, a touch that used to spike his anxiety now coaxes him to relax. He exhales deeply as she leans in and he feels her lips gently press against his forehead. 

_**“** I always will  **…”**  _he whispers, though it sounds more like a mumble. Out of habit, he moves to reach for her, but his arm immediately protests and violently so. He hisses and recoils as he recalls the injury that he’d so quickly forgotten about in her presence. 

_**“** Ow **…”**_

This was going to be a  _very_  rough month…


End file.
